


Some Shape of Beauty

by LovelyRita1967



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Background Relationships, Betaed, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-Divorce, Pre-Slash, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, background geraskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967
Summary: Tissaia is struggling after a nasty divorce and, stuck at Regis’s house in the midst of a snowstorm, finds unexpected comfort in his arms.
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy & Tissaia de Vries, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Tissaia de Vries
Comments: 28
Kudos: 33
Collections: Food for the Heart (Witcher), The Modern Witcher AU Collection





	Some Shape of Beauty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gryphonheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphonheart/gifts).



> Ro is one of the kindest people I have met in the Witcher fandom. It’s not overstating things to say that Ro changed my life when they invited me to join a Witcher group chat, because if they hadn’t, I never would have started writing. 
> 
> And Ro needs more soft Regis content in a Geraskier world, so I wrote this for them. Love you, Ro. I hope you like it. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, [Blaire_Seton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton/pseuds/Blaire_Seton) who is also in the GC and who has also changed my life and whom I also love.
> 
> (Minor content warning: Tissaia is coming off of a bad divorce and she briefly implies her husband was emotionally abusive.)

Tissaia found herself in the kitchen, as usual. The kitchen was a safe place to be, an echo of work, where hands could be busy, eyes focused on the task. At parties however, there was nothing urgent, nothing demanding her attention, and she would suddenly become awkward and uncomfortable. 

It was easier to fill silences when you were loading the dishwasher or collecting garbage. She had also noticed that other people seemed not to find her quite so formidable in social situations if she was busy helping, versus standing silently in a corner holding a drink. 

This time she was refilling the bread basket and wiping up stray spills when Triss breezed in, holding a stack of used paper plates and napkins. 

“Hi Tissaia,” she chirped brightly, brown curls bouncing. “Are you still in here cleaning up? Come join the party!” 

Tissaia nodded. “Yes, I will. Thank you.” 

Triss tossed her handful into the trash and washed her hands. Then she just stood there, waiting patiently. Tissaia realized there was no avoiding it. 

She picked up her wine glass - she had been nursing a single glass all evening so she could drive home - and followed Triss back out into the main living area. 

The room was warm, dimly lit, and crowded, and her gaze swept the faces, doing a quick mental name check. 

“Who is the man with the curly red hair again?” she whispered to Triss, subtly nodding her head in the direction of the coffee table, where a group was playing a loud game involving cards and shot glasses. 

They were laughing raucously as said redhead jumped to his feet, howling in mock outrage. 

Triss smiled at his theatrics. “That’s Lambert. One of the cooks.” 

“Right. Thank you.” 

Tissaia had only been working at the restaurant for two weeks and she still hadn’t quite figured out who was who yet, particularly for those who mostly worked nights. Tonight’s Christmas staff party gave her a chance to sort everyone out once and for all. 

She watched as big, burly Eskel, another one of the cooks, handed Lambert a shot glass. Lambert slammed it back and whooped loudly to the cheers of the crowd. 

“Lambert, you animal!” came a musical voice from the other side of the room.

Tissaia turned to the piano where Jaskier was standing, hands on hips. 

“I am trying to perform for you and I can’t do it over the sound of debauchery,” he said haughtily, but Tissaia could see the amused glint in his blue eyes. 

Jaskier was one of the servers, and Tissaia could already tell why he was the most popular and well tipped. Jaskier had a talent for making just about everyone at his tables fall in love with him, and it seemed he fell in love with them right back. He was bright, vivacious, and had a genuine smile and kind word for everyone. Apparently he was also a talented musician. 

Jaskier had been regaling them with Christmas carols on the piano, fingers sure without sheet music, and voice smooth and sweet. But as the evening wore on, the volume of merry-making grew steadily louder, capped now with the intense round of whatever game they were playing. 

“Come join us, Jaskier!” Lambert replied, empty shot glass raised high. “I will destroy you!” 

Jaskier grinned at him but Tissaia noticed his eyes slide to the end of the piano, where Geralt, the intense, brooding head chef was casually leaning. 

“What do you say, Geralt?” Jaskier asked him, eyebrows raised. “Think we can take him?” 

Geralt replied with a grunt, but dutifully followed Jaskier over to the crowd on the couches. 

Triss headed over, too, but Tissaia couldn’t quite bring herself to join them. 

A few other small groups were still scattered through the room and Tissaia was eyeing them, wondering which she could most easily fit into, when she saw him enter the room from the hallway. 

Regis. 

Tissaia felt her cheeks flush the slightest bit at the sight of her new boss. 

He had dark greying hair and a receding hairline with a soft widow’s peak, but the remaining hair was dramatically upswept, giving him a rather dashing appearance. He was wearing a soft brown sweater under a dark grey blazer. And he was perhaps the kindest man Tissaia had ever met. Certainly the kindest she had ever worked for. 

Regis owned two busy restaurants in the city and was in the process of opening a third. He had hired Tissaia to run one of them, an Italian place called Corvo Bianco. They had spent a lot of time together the past two weeks as he showed her ins and outs of the business. 

He was unfailingly polite, holding doors and standing up whenever Tissaia entered or left a room. He even called her “Ms. de Vries”. She couldn’t help but be a little taken by his old-fashioned chivalry.

Regis saw her watching him, and made his way over, glass of red wine in hand. She found her hand fluttering up to smooth her hair in its bun, but as usual, not a strand was out of place. 

“Ms. de Vries, I’m glad to see you’ve joined us. I couldn’t help but notice you’ve spent quite a lot of time in the kitchen.” His smile was gentle. 

“Yes, I…” Tissaia paused and cleared her throat. She found it hard to explain her preference for spending parties in the kitchen. 

“I’m sure it must be overwhelming to have so many people to meet. I hope you are enjoying yourself this evening?” His eyes were a deep, dark brown and appeared almost black in the shadows. But kind. So kind. 

“Yes, I am, thank you,” she nodded tightly. She made herself take a breath and loosen her shoulders. “Thank you for hosting the party. It’s so lovely of you to have us all in your home.” 

Tissaia knew their Christmas staff party was always the first Monday in December, and Regis shut the restaurant early so everyone could attend. 

Regis’s gaze wandered the room, watching his employees fondly. “Yes, I so enjoy having everyone here.” He paused and took a few steps over to the nearby window. Tissaia followed. “I am a little concerned about the weather though,” he added, peering out. 

There was indeed quite the winter storm brewing outside. Tissaia could barely see the road through the swirling flakes. It had been in the forecast and it seemed they got it exactly right this time. Tissaia knew that Regis had considered postponing the party but since it required closing the restaurant during their busiest month it was almost impossible to reschedule. 

“It might be time to send everyone home.” He had warned them in advance the party wouldn't be able to go as late as normal, but he hated to break it up when they were all clearly still having so much fun. Still, the snow was piling up and the plows would start to fall behind. He needed them all to get home safely. 

Across the room Jaskier threw up his arms in victory as Lambert buried his face in his hands. 

When the accompanying cheering and groaning had died down a little, Regis tapped on his wine glass with one of his rings, making a delicate sound. 

“Attention, my dears, please!” The room quickly quieted as everyone turned to listen to their beloved boss. “I would like to thank you all so much for joining me in my home this evening. But I’m afraid our time together must come to an end.” He smiled and held up his hands when he was met with a chorus of disappointment. “I know, I know, I wish you could stay all night, too. But I must get you all home safely, and there is no sign of the storm letting up.”

As the crowd began to say their goodbyes and bundle into their winter gear, Tissaia couldn’t help herself, and did a sweep of the room, carrying glasses and plates into the kitchen while the first few people departed with loud holiday wishes and hugs all around. 

When she came back into the living room, the crowd at the door had dwindled. Jaskier was squinting at his phone. “Does this actually say the wait for the cab is an hour and 45 minutes?” He pointed his screen at Geralt’s face.

“I’ll drive you,” Geralt grumbled. “Come on.” 

“Oh, Geralt!” Jaskier sighed dramatically, throwing one arm around him. “You’ve rescued me yet again.” 

“Hmm.” Geralt slid his arm around Jaskier’s waist, as the other man did indeed appear a little unsteady on his feet. 

Tissaia couldn't help but notice Geralt’s face soften for a moment as he looked at Jaskier, who had started quietly singing “Let It Snow”.

Regis saw her watching them and he learned in conspiratorially. “There’s a pool going as to when they actually start dating. They’re clearly in love and yet…”

Tissaia glanced back at them thoughtfully. “Can I put money on New Year’s Eve?” 

“Ah, yes. A new beginning, time for passionate declarations of love? You may just take the pot.” 

Lambert and Eskel bundled up and headed off together - they only had a short walk to their house. Tissaia did one more sweep of the room, waving to those who called out their goodbyes, and when she came back into the living room she was the last one left. 

Regis was just closing the door, and he turned. 

“Are you sure I can’t stay to help clean up?” she asked.

Regis smiled at her. Tissaia had noticed how his smiles always started with a light upward curve of his lip, and then when the smile spread across his whole face, a deep wrinkle appeared in his cheek. The wrinkle was there now.

His head dipped in what was almost a bow. “Your offer is kind and much appreciated, but you’ve left me barely any cleaning to do! I’d rather see you get home safely.” 

Tissaia nodded and met Regis’s steady gaze. “Well… thank you again. This was a lovely evening.” For a brief moment she found herself wanting to press a quick kiss to his cheek, but quickly discarded that as a terrible idea. He was her boss after all. 

Instead she placed her hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

He placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed back. “It was truly a pleasure, Ms. de Vries.” 

She tilted her head up towards him. He really was quite a bit taller than her. “Call me Tissaia, please.” 

“Tissaia,” he repeated softly. 

Tissaia pulled on her coat and gloves and wrapped her scarf over her head. With a final wave, she pushed out into the swirling snow. The wind nearly knocked her tiny frame right over, but she put her head down and pushed on. 

There was no sign of snowplows, and the snow was in thick drifts on the road with a few tire tracks from the partygoers making their way home. A few of them were still on the roads brushing the snow off their cars, although she couldn’t tell who was who, bundled up as they were against the cold. 

Tissaia’s car was parked a block away, so she waded on through the snow. She preferred to arrive at social functions a little late, finding it easier to slip in unnoticed once the party was on. One of the drawbacks of this was terrible parking. 

By the time she found the lump of snow which she was fairly certain contained her car, her fingers, toes, and the tip of her nose already felt numb. She stood there a moment giving herself a silent peptalk, before using her hands to brush off enough snow to open a door and pull out her snow brush. 

The snow was thick and heavy, and the wind blew prickly flakes directly into her face. She brushed and brushed until she finally had removed enough snow to drive safely. 

Shivering, she fell into the driver’s seat and pressed the start button and… nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing. Not a sound from her engine. 

She sat there, hands on the steering wheel, teeth chattering. She never swore but a few choice words gathered on her tongue. She fumbled for her phone in her purse but she was too cold to formulate a plan and all she could think about was getting back inside. 

With a groan she trudged back down the block, her footprints already almost gone, brushed away by the wind and covered with fresh snow. The rest of the block was deserted - nothing moved anywhere except for the blowing snowfall. 

She knocked on Regis’s door with no feeling in her fingers.

His look of mild surprise when he saw her was quickly erased by one of concern. “Ms. de Vr- Tissaia! Is everything okay? Please, please, come in.” He ushered her inside and began brushing the snow off of her coat. 

“My car wouldn’t start,” she explained, her teeth still chattering. “Can I just call a cab? I’ll deal with my car in the morning.” 

“Yes, of course. My dear, you are shaking. Please, warm up first.” 

He unwound the scarf from her head and helped her slide her coat off. 

When he reached up to gently brush some snow from her hair she felt a warmth in the pit of her stomach, sharp contrast to the numbness in her fingers and toes. 

“Please, go sit. I will arrange a cab for you.” 

Tissaia saw that Regis had lit a fire in his fireplace, and cleared the cards from the coffee table. She perched on the edge of the couch and held her hands up to the warmth, goosebumps prickling her skin. 

Regis paced behind her on his phone. The first taxi company he called didn’t answer. The second had closed due to the storm. He tried a third. 

“Good evening, sir. I am in need of a cab at… Two hours?” He looked at Tissaia who was staring back with wide eyes. “Hmm, yes I suppose that will do, then.” He gave his information to dispatch.

“Well, we have a bit of wait ahead of us. I hope you don’t mind.” He came and perched on the other end of the couch. 

“No, not at all. I’m so sorry for imposing on you…”

“It is no imposition. I shall be happy to have your extended company.” 

Another shiver wracked her body and she rubbed her hands together. 

Regis edged closer and slowly reached for her hands. “May I…?” 

She nodded. 

He placed his hands on either side of hers. His long, elegant fingers covered hers completely. “They’re like ice,” he said with dismay, and began to rub gently. 

Tissaia watched his hands work, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with him sitting so close and touching her. 

The silence stretched on slightly longer than was comfortable, but she found herself unable to say anything. 

“Have you had car trouble recently?” Regis asked, and she was grateful for the distraction.

“Yes, actually…. My ex-husband ended up with both cars so I had to buy one. I couldn’t afford a good one, and with the cold weather it’s been… temperamental.” 

Regis cocked an eyebrow. “He got… both cars?”

Tissaia’s lips formed a thin line. “He was... is a powerful, manipulative man. I… His lawyers were effective. They argued he needed both for work.” 

She could feel her shoulders tensing and the sharp pang of anxiety gnawing at her stomach as it always did when she thought about Stregobor. Moving away from Aretuza had been essential in escaping from Stregobor’s influence, but she hated how much space he still took up in her head. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Regis’s hands stilled. 

“Thank you, they feel much better now.” 

Regis let go quickly. “I’m glad to hear that.” The fire crackled a moment. “May I offer you another glass of wine?”

“Yes, if you let me help you finish cleaning up first.”

“Oh no, that’s really not nec-”

“I insist.” Tissaia stood up and marched into the kitchen, collecting a few more glasses from the piano on her way. 

Regis followed. “This is extremely kind of you.”

Regis had been right, there wasn’t a lot of cleaning to do thanks to Tissaia’s earlier efforts. They collected the garbage, loaded the dishwasher, and Tissaia swept while Regis finished putting away the food. They didn’t say much, and Tissaia enjoyed the comforting rhythms of cleaning and organizing. 

When there wasn’t anything left to do, Regis poured two glasses of red wine and carried them back over the fireplace. 

They had just settled and taken the first sip when Regis’s phone dinged. He looked at the notification and his brow furrowed. 

“Oh dear. I’m afraid… your cab has been cancelled. It looks like no one is going anywhere tonight.”

“Oh, I…” Tissaia froze. “Oh.” 

Regis looked out the window. He was silent for a moment, his eyes growing a little distant. “The snow is rather beautiful, though, isn’t it?” he asked quietly. 

He turned to face her and saw the look of distress on her face. “Oh, I hope you’re not too upset about having to stay. I have a guest room…” 

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no! I just don’t want to be any trouble.” 

“You could never be any trouble, of course.”

“Thank you. I’m so sorry-”

“It is nothing. I’m pleased to have you.” 

“Well… thank you.” Tissaia sipped her wine and flexed her tingling fingers. 

“This will give us a chance to get to know one another a little better.”

Tissaia gave him a small smile. She dreaded talking about herself.

“Were you never married?” she asked him, hoping that might distract him for a while. She wasn’t expecting the look of profound sadness to wash over his face. 

“I was engaged. He… passed away before we could get married.” 

“Oh Regis. I am so sorry.” Tissaia found herself reaching out to touch his hand. Her heart ached at the pain she could see on his face. 

“It’s quite alright, my dear. It was a long time ago. The ones we love never quite leave us though, do they?” 

“Whether we want them to or not,” Tissaia agreed wryly. 

“Your divorce has been… acrimonious?” 

“That’s putting it mildly. I couldn’t even stay in Aretuza. His reach was extensive. He had half the city in his pocket. I had to get away.”

“I am sorry he put you through that, but I must say, I am quite thrilled that you found us.” 

Tissaia was taken aback by the well of emotion she felt rising up her throat. 

“Thank you for hiring me. Your restaurant is a dream. I hope I can do a good job.” 

“You are already doing a magnificent job. I’ve never met anyone so efficient.”

“Efficient, yes. Well-liked… I’m not so sure.”

“Not well-liked? Whatever do you mean?” 

“It’s okay… I know that I tend to come across… uptight. Snobby. I don’t think many people like me.” 

Regis looked alarmed and slid a little closer to her on the couch, gaze earnest. 

“Tissaia, you are a gift to the restaurant. You’re calm, steady, thoughtful, hard working…. Yes, perhaps stern as well, but one must have some steel in them to manage a restaurant. I love my employees, but… there’s a lot going on. Jaskier alone…” Regis trailed off, smiling fondly. 

“Yes, he’s something alright,” Tissaia agreed, and was dismayed to find tears pricking her eyes. “My goddess, I’m so sorry.” Tissaia quickly wiped away the single tear that escaped. 

“Why are you crying?” Regis asked, his eyes so soft that Tissaia could not look away. 

“You’re just so kind to me… I haven’t had anyone say anything nice about me in… well, quite a long time. Thank you.” She sniffed, trying her best to blink back the tears. 

“Your ex-husband sounds like a monster. I’m sorry for the way he treated you.”

Tissaia meant to tell him not to apologize for the actions of a sociopath, but in the face of warmth and compassion and empathy, she found her walls crumbling. 

Another tear escaped. Then another. 

“Oh, my darling.” Regis moved right over and slid his arms around Tissaia, pulling her head onto his shoulder. “Hush, now. It will be alright.” 

And her walls collapsed. She couldn’t hold it in any longer and found herself sobbing into his shoulder. 

He made soothing noises and rubbed large circles on her back with one hand.

Tissaia wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but eventually her crying slowed to a sniffling. Regis smoothed her hair and handed her a handkerchief from his pocket when she sat up. 

She wiped her tears. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m-”

“Please do not apologize. You were clearly in need of a good cry and I’m happy I could be here for you.” He hesitated a moment. “And if you want to talk about it…” 

Tissaia’s bruised heart throbbed, exposed. 

And she began telling Regis everything about her life with Stregobor, surprised that it felt so good to share the burden with someone else. She realized she had been carrying this by herself for her entire adult life and it was too much to carry alone.

“He hadn’t touched me in years.” Tissaia found herself divulging, watching where Regis’s knee was pressed against hers. “I think that hug you just gave me was the first one I’d had since my parents passed away.” 

“You haven’t… been touched?” 

She shook her head shyly. 

Regis edged closer and lifted an arm in invitation. Tissaia put her wine glass down and slid under his arm. She sighed at the feeling of the weight settling across her shoulders. He tucked her in next to him and she pressed herself against his side, head leaning onto his chest, sweater still wet from her tears. 

She took a deep breath and allowed herself to wiggle a little closer. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked. 

“Mmmmm,” was all she could reply. She could feel the rumble of his voice and hear his heart beating. The fire snapped and crackled. 

She realized with a sudden moment of clarity that It was the first moment of true happiness and contentment she’d felt in years. 

Regis ran his hand up and down her arm and rested his chin lightly on her head. 

Tissaia allowed her eyes to close and breathed in the warmth of the room and Regis’s clean, woodsy scent.

The last of the tension had finally drained from her body and she felt like rubber, draped over the man’s sturdy frame. Her arms had been wrapped around herself when she burrowed in and when she cracked her eyes open, she realized that one of her hands was touching Regis’s thigh. She stared at her hand for a second and thought about how the thigh was attached to a man who was her boss... She tensed up again. 

“Is something the matter?” Regis asked gently.

“No, I just…” She sat up and smoothed her hair back. A few strands had actually escaped. “This is probably not a good idea. I mean, you are my boss…” she trailed off. 

Regis placed a hand on his heart. “If you are uncomfortable in any way, of course we should stop. But I assure you, my intentions are honourable. I merely wish to provide you with some comfort. To be a friend.” 

He smiled at her, and then reached over to push a stray strand of shiny brown hair behind her ear. Tissaia shivered. She didn’t think anyone had ever done that to her before. 

She could see the genuine caring in Regis’s dark eyes and she allowed herself to sink back into his side. 

“Are you warm enough?” Regis asked, with her head once again tucked under his chin. 

Tissaia considered for a moment. “My toes are actually still a little cold.” 

Regis pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it around her, ensuring her toes were completely covered. 

This time she slid her arm around his back and wrapped the other one around his waist, and he did the same to her. She allowed herself to be held. 

The wind howled outside and the fire glowed, embers popping gently, and Tissaia, warm and heavy, drifted off to sleep.

* * * * 

Tissaia sat up blearily and blinked against the dazzling sunlight streaming in through the windows. It took her a moment to remember how she came to be sleeping in someone’s living room, wrapped in a fleece blanket. She had a vague memory of Regis slipping off the couch last night, and gently guiding her head to a pillow, tucking blankets tightly around her. 

She gingerly felt her hair, which was now in the frizzy ruins of a bun. She pulled the bobby pins and clips out and let it fall down around her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, scritching her nails across her scalp, and gave her head a good shake. 

At a small creak she looked up and saw Regis standing in the doorway to the kitchen watching her, mouth slightly agape. He was holding two mugs of coffee. 

“Your hair…” he started. “It’s beautiful.” 

Tissaia blushed and accepted the mug as he handed it to her. “Thank you. I don’t ever wear it down.” 

“Well, it’s… lovely. Just cream, correct?” He sat next to her on the couch and handed her a mug. 

“Yes.” She took a grateful sip. Of course Regis remembered how she took her coffee. 

“The storm has passed,” he told her, nodding towards the sunshine, “although I don’t think anyone will be driving anywhere anytime soon.”

“Will you open the restaurant late?” Tissaia asked, already starting a mental list of things she would need to go to get to work on time. 

Regis’s eyes twinkled. “Go look outside.” 

Tissaia made her way to the window and was shocked at the sight. The entire world was covered in one smooth blanket of snow, the road indistinguishable from sidewalks and yards, the cars all identical lumps of white. 

“It’s a snow day today. I don’t think we’ll be opening up at all.” 

Tissaia couldn’t think of better news, and went back to the couch, eager to settle back into her cozy nest. She tucked her feet up under her and pulled the blanket back across her lap. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay last night, and… well, for letting me cry.” She ducked her head in embarrassment. “And just… listening.”

“It was my great honour.” Regis inclined his head at her gracefully. “I do apologize that you ended up spending the night on my couch. I certainly meant to provide the guest room bed for you, but when you fell asleep, you looked so comfortable and at peace. I didn’t have the heart to move you.” 

“Your couch is very comfortable. I slept very well, thank you. I barely remember you leaving.” 

They sipped their coffee in companionable silence for a minute or two. 

“May I cook you some breakfast?” Tissaia offered. 

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

They carried their coffee into the kitchen, and Tissaia insisted Regis have a seat at the table while she poked through his fridge, pulling out eggs, bread, and bacon. She made french toast, while they chatted easily about the restaurant and their favourite books and movies. They had a lot in common, and as the morning went on, Tissaia felt the warm glow of friendship settling around them. 

Later they were settled back on the couch, Tissaia tucked under Regis’s arm again, both of them lost in a good novel. Regis’s hand absentmindedly stroked up and down Tissaia’s arm. The only sounds were the turning of pages and the crackle of the fire, until eventually the scraping of snowplows joined in. 

Tissaia could hardly bring herself to break the spell, but she couldn’t impose on Regis the entire day. Reluctantly she peered out the window and saw the roads were cleared, with the odd car slowly making its way down the street. 

She requested a cab on her phone. It was only 15 minutes away, so Tissaia did a quick last tidy of the kitchen despite Regis’s protests, then bundled back up into her coat, gloves, and scarf. 

She turned to face Regis at the door, and this time didn’t hesitate as she went up on tiptoes to press a kiss to Regis’s cheek.

“Thank you, Regis. For everything.” 

Regis wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for one more hug. She buried her face in his sweater, breathing in his scent. 

“Thank  _ you, _ Tissaia.” She pulled back to look at him and he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. 

Her cab pulled up, and with a final smile, Tissaia turned and waded out through the snow that was up above her knees. 

She squinted against the sun sparkling brightly on the snow and felt tears prick her eyes again. She had not expected to find comfort and friendship last night when she snuck into the party late and hid in the kitchen. She had not expected kindness to crumble the walls she had built so carefully around her heart. 

Before she climbed into the cab she turned and saw Regis still watching her from the doorway. This man had accepted her as she was, and given her so much, simply by being himself. She waved, and she felt whole. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Keats’ “Endymion” (A thing of beauty): _yes, in spite of all,/ Some shape of beauty moves away the pall/ From our dark spirits._
> 
> This universe has been expanded! You can read the sequel to this story [With Ideal Grace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468503/chapters/64495105), the Geraskier version [Snowstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234902), and now the Lambert/Eskel story [The Colour of Desire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567653/chapters/64769875). 
> 
> I otherwise write Geraskier romcoms. You can [read them here or subscribe to me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967) to make sure you don’t miss any! 
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LovelyRita1967) (18+) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lovelyrita1967). I follow back! 
> 
> Kudos are so appreciated, and each and every comment brings me absolute joy. Thank you.


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